Memories Of An Affair
by DeltaLutra
Summary: JackJanet The title really says it all....set both pre-SGC and Season One
1. Shock

Title: Memories Of An Affair  
  
Author: Deltachild  
  
Rating: PG-13 for domestic violence and mild language  
  
Pairing: Jack/Janet and a hint of Sam/Jack  
  
Spoilers: Primarily "The Broca Divide", but elements are drawn in from most of the first season and the Stargate movie.  
  
Summary: In the chaos of "The Broca Divide" two people remember their shared past.  
  
Author Notes: Ever since I first saw it I could not get the scene of Janet in Jacks cell (The section called "Trust") out of my head. I will always believe that they knew each other in someway before meeting at the SGC. This fic is me trying to create a past for them. The POV jumps around a bit, but I hope that it is clear for the most part! I don't have a beta so I apologise in advance for any glaring errors. I'll do most things for feedback!  
  
Shock  
  
"How dare you reject me? You bring shame upon the clan," Sam growled in a stilted, guttural voice. She was punctuating her words with well-aimed kicks. "The Alpha male is never allowed to reject his female." She finished her tirade with a desperate scream, as her attempts to loosen his grip failed again  
  
"Trust me Carter it's nothing personal," Jack managed to gasp out as he dragged her closer to the infirmary. The looks he was getting from every airman that passed him... he didn't care though; he just wanted to get Carter sorted.  
  
He sensed a change in her, and braced himself for the next onslaught. She stopped fighting the death grip he had around her body and leaned back into him. She undulated her taught body against his and purred, "You know I can give you the greatest pleasures, we could have healthy young."  
  
This just was not fair, but he was almost there. "Not that much further now," he announced.  
  
She screamed again and grabbed hold of the doorframe; he prised her fingers off it and stepped into the infirmary. " Need a doctor", he yelled.  
  
"Coming," a voice replied and a figure stepped out from behind a curtain. He was so shocked that he almost released Carter.  
  
He knew that the base had a new CMO, but SG-1 had left on their mission before formal introductions could be made. He couldn't believe it was her. He had never even thought of the possibility of meeting her again.  
  
She stood in front of him, a little changed from their last meeting but still the same person. She had frozen, shock written all over her beautiful face.  
  
A sharp kick from the woman he was holding brought him back to the situation, "Captain Carter just..." he hesitated, this was so not a good time to say just what had happened, ".... attacked me. I think she might have whatever Johnson's got."  
  
He saw a change in the woman that he had only seen a shadow of before, the snapping from one person to another. "Right get her on a bed, we need to sedate her." 


	2. The Broca Divide

The Broca Divide  
  
Scent. Female. Close. Not just female. My mate.  
  
Male. Not of me. Not of us. Near her. Wrong. She belongs to me.  
  
There are many. None belong.  
  
My mate. Danger. Must protect her. She is not strong enough. She is mine.  
  
Male too close. His scent is crossed with hers. He is too close. Danger to my mate.  
  
My mate. No other male can take her.  
  
He is not of us. No son of mine. No right. No place. No status. Wrong.  
  
Must defend. Above all else. Mine. I will hunt him. Fight him. Kill him. He has no right.  
  
He is weak. He brings other males. All must die. She is mine.  
  
He is not of my blood. He has no value. He will die.  
  
His weakness. I will spill.  
  
I will rip, tear, kill.  
  
He is close. Too close.  
  
Little time. Little effort. Speed.  
  
Not just scent. He is here. Next to my mate. I see.  
  
I call to her. Need her. Want her. He will die.  
  
And still. He cheats. He lies. Makes as if to fight. But lies.  
  
The others. I can take them. They are nothing.  
  
My mate. Close. Need to touch. Need.  
  
There are new tricks. New lies.  
  
My body does not work.  
  
Close. Where. I seek. I fail. I call.  
  
Where is my clan? Where is my blood? My mate?  
  
I fall. She is gone.  
  
***  
  
Even when it sleeps, I can feel the animal's presence in my mind. The sedative defiantly manages to subdue it a little; it lets me think clearly, if only for a brief moment in time. It is not like being possessed. The animal is me, well part of me. There is not 'It' and 'I', just both of us together.  
  
To sense Janet like that and to feel SO strongly for her, even after the years we have been apart. I wonder if...  
  
I cannot believe I even began to think like that. This is exactly why we stopped seeing each other, reasons made even more obvious by our current situation. Being in the same command structure as each other, hell we will be working together once this is over, it could never happen.  
  
I do not think she realises what a danger that other part of me is to her at the moment. When I see her, I am driven wild. I know her only as my mate, the one I must protect. Mine. She is not mine, she can't be. We have our memories though.  
  
Apart from my obviously vivid memories of our first time, there is one moment that sticks out more than the others. 


	3. Falling

Falling  
  
Slowly and as quietly as possible, he picked up his clothes. Although they had been removed rather rapidly there did not seem to be any lasting or noticeable damage. He dressed and stood at the foot of the motel bed, watching her. The sheets were tangled around her legs, her head wasn't even on a pillow, and one arm was still sprawled out from where it had been flung over him. Even in this ungainly state, she still conveyed a sense of wonder. Her body was lit by a street-lamp outside the window. As he watched, a small tremble passed over her body. He knelt down on the floor and after locating the duvet spread it over her in a sweeping movement. She did not stir.  
  
Deciding it really was the time to leave, he made towards the door. He noticed a scrap of paper on the floor, his scrap of paper. He picked it up and again stood still in the half-light. How could such a tiny piece of paper pose such a great dilemma? He glanced back at the bed, could he just walk away or should he leave something of himself behind? Was this a good idea? The occupant of the bed sighed and turned over, facing the door. Although he could not see her face, he could tell that she was still asleep. He did not need light to see her bruise, it was burnt into his memory. Did he ever really have a choice? He approached the bed and put his number on the bedside table, not believing that he had even considered taking it away.  
  
He then spent a few moments picking up her clothes, and her tags. She was air force, of course she would be, he wondered if he would ever be able to escape it. He could not linger any longer, so he dumped the tags and clothes on a chair and left.  
  
*** I can still feel that piece of paper in my hand, and hear the sound it made when I put it on the table. I will never regret that action. Never.  
  
The sedative must be wearing off. I can feel my other self returning. Little by little, my mind-set changes. I must have more sedative. 


	4. Trust

Trust  
  
She leant closer to him in the darkness of the isolation block, trying to comprehend what he was saying. "Experiment on you?" She shook her head, "No, sir, I can't do that." The word 'sir' caught and stuck in her throat, it was so hard not to call him Jack. This whole situation was just too hard.  
  
He reached out and took her chin gently, urging her to look at him. Although the rest of his face had changed, his eyes beneath the brow ridge remained the same. The same captivating brown that had caught her in their siren song years ago, they were the very essence of Jack O'Neill. They looked up at her now full of absolute trust, and a sliver of fear.  
  
She didn't know how much this was harming him; to tame the animal inside of him she had administered a normally fatal dose of sedative. Still he was slipping, losing himself again. He struggled to speak, having to carefully construct each word and fight to get it out.  
  
He moved her head a little with his hand, "Use me". Those two words reached into Janet and tore open a previously well-locked set of feelings. To hear her own words, spoken long ago, reflected back at her like that had a profound effect.  
  
She looked down at the floor for a moment, struggling to maintain her chosen persona of Doctor. She failed.  
  
Bringing her own hand up to where his rested on her cheek, she wrapped her fingers around it. For an instant she shut her eyes and turned slightly into their shared contact, remembering. He shifted slightly, and her eyes flew open. His eyes were shut, then his arm went limp and she let his hand fall down.  
  
She hated to leave him in that darkened cell, locked up like an animal, unless she found a cure he would stay trapped inside himself forever. 


	5. Reliving

Reliving  
  
General Hammond was one of the last to succumb to the virus, everyone else seems to be immune. There aren't many of us and I'm still not familiar with everyone's medical files, but there seem to be quite a few people who suffer from severe allergies. The base is weak though and there's not much any of us can do, except wait for Dr Jackson and Mr Teal'c to come back. Most of the affected personnel are either sedated or have collapsed out of pure exhaustion. The few medical staff are looking after the injured.  
  
I had retreated to my office in the hope of getting a little rest, but there is little hope of that. I've been on base for around 38 hours. The virus first showed itself at around 22:30 and it has been madness from then onwards. In fact this is the first time I've really left the infirmary since then, apart from when I was explaining the situation to Jack. No he's not Jack, he's Colonel O'Neill. He HAS to be that to me. It was so hard though. When I first saw him it felt like, well to be cliché, like a ton of bricks had hit me. I was totally unprepared and unguarded. I had always wanted to believe that he had not left for that final mission, that somewhere he was still alive. I had just stood their staring at him until I noticed the woman in his arms, then my training had kicked in.  
  
It had been surprisingly easy to pretend. After our first meeting Jack seemed to snap into a different person, so did I. We worked and interacted together like people who had only just met. Later though when I was showing him the converted isolation blocks, when it had just been us, I had ached to say something about our past, but I didn't. It was not exactly uncomfortable between us; the conversation was quick and easy, lacking somehow though.  
  
When the SF's brought Jack in, my heart had sunk. By all rights I shouldn't have been treating him, far too emotionally attached, but I wasn't about to say that to anyone. I found that I was not attached to him though, because that creature may have resembled Jack physically, but it was not him. It took the combined efforts of 7 SF's just to get him strapped down so I could sedate him. Even sedated he had continued to scream, and it was dangerous to be close to him. He was twice as violent as any of the others. The brow ridge formed a lot quicker on him, soon even his physical appearance resembled more beast than man.  
  
We had to put him in an iso' room, he was simply too dangerous to have in the infirmary. I pumped him full of more sedative, but as I locked the door I looked back through the grill. He was watching me through the grate, head tilted to one side. He growled, almost purred when he saw me studying him and I hesitated to leave. There was a brief moment of silence in which he suddenly lunged at the door, forcing me to leap back and slam the hatch across.  
  
It was so hard to see him like that. I will always remember him the way I first met him, although he wasn't exactly a pretty picture then.. 


	6. Shared Misery

Shared Misery  
  
Someone had been watching him for the last hour that he had been in the bar. He didn't care though, if someone felt like they had to stare at a broken man then who was he to stop them?  
  
He knew that he should go home and try to sort things out with Sara, but he just could not face another argument at the moment. It was an argument that had driven him here in the first place. Sara wouldn't let him bring alcohol into the house after what had happened after the funeral. Jack knew that trying to drown his problems in alcohol would just leave him feeling worse in the long run, but it numbed him for a while. He tilted his head back and finished his drink. The chink of metal around his neck broke through his thoughts. He had officially retired this morning; everyone knew that it had been coming so he had just made it official. The tags remained however; he could not quite bring himself to lose them just yet.  
  
Unexpectedly another glass was put in front of him, "Hey I didn't order this."  
  
"No, but she did," said the barkeep pointing towards the other end of the bar.  
  
Jack looked at the brunette sitting almost directly opposite him, with her own glass of amber fluid, and raised the glass as a way of thanks. He had no idea who she was but was not going to turn down a free drink. She smiled back at him, she was beautiful. Jack spared a moment to look at her properly. From what he could see her hair was shoulder length, neatly framing her face, and her skin seemed pale especially under the dim lighting of the bar. Only a little of her figure was visible, but she seemed to be built very delicately. She knew that he was looking at her because when his eyes reached hers they were met. Jack could see even over the distance that her eyes had a definite sparkle in them, although one of them seemed slightly smaller. Jack drew his gaze outwards slightly and took in for the first time the semi-black eye she had. She seemed to know what had caught his attention, the sparkle went out of her eyes and she drew back a little.  
  
Idly Jack wondered where she had managed to get such a shiner from, but not really caring. He didn't look at her again, but the next time the barkeeper walked past he paid for her next drink. He sat and brooded for a while, thinking back over the argument again. He couldn't remember what had sparked it off, but all arguments led to the same topics, Charlie's death and his behaviour. She had accused him of withdrawing into himself, of not loving her anymore. Jack knew the reason she thought he didn't love her anymore was because he barely slept in the same bed as her. It wasn't that he didn't love her, he did in a way, but he hated himself too much.  
  
She had also told him to stop blaming himself. Who else was there to blame? It wasn't like Charlie had been killed by some murderer or by a freak accident. He had taken his fathers gun and shot himself. The gun that he had frequently seen his father cleaning, a gun like the guns he had seen pictures of his Dad with.  
  
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.  
  
Jack felt the rage build inside of him, and squeezed the glass in his hand so hard that it shattered. He didn't even let go. He could feel the pain of where the glass had cut into his hand, and the sting of the whiskey seeping into the cuts, but it felt apart from him. Through his clouded eyes he saw the first drop of blood fall on the wood of the bar, swiftly followed by others. No one seemed to have noticed.  
  
Then a hand appeared on his arm, he flinched away from the contact, but it stayed there. "Leave me alone," he choked.  
  
"No," said a firm voice. He looked up and saw the brunette, "You need to have that hand seen to, I'm a doctor let me help."  
  
He really did not want her help, and would have quite happily sat there all night holding the broken glass in his hand. However he had been trained to except orders, and something in the woman's voice made him agree.  
  
"Fine."  
  
Slowly she prised his fingers apart, and plucked the pieces of glass out of his hand. The barkeeper had noticed what was happening and came over. "Is everything all right here?"  
  
"Could I please have your first aid kit, and could you show me to a sink where I can wash this"  
  
She sounds used to giving orders as well, who is this woman, Jack wondered.  
  
The barkeeper showed them round the back of the bar to a sink and handed the woman a first aid kit, he then left to deal with his customers.  
  
"My names Janet by the way."  
  
"Jack," he grunted in return.  
  
A silence fell between them while she treated his hand, and she appeared to have given up talking to him. He felt no pain when she touched it, the alcohol had dulled his senses. He wondered why she was doing this. Why she was bothering to help a complete stranger, who was quite clearly drunk. He watched her as she worked. Her obvious beauty was not wasted on him and he wasn't surprised when he saw the wedding ring on her hand.  
  
"There," she said as she finished. "You should get that bandage changed in a couple of days, but you probably won't."  
  
He looked up at her sharply, "Why wouldn't I?"  
  
"You look like you have more important things to worry about," she said simply.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Excuse me for making observations but you don't look exactly happy, and you've just spent the last 4 hours getting steadily drunk."  
  
"Well I can just ask you why you have been sitting at the same bar for the last 4 hours, and what you did to get such nice black eye from?" Jack bit back at her.  
  
She moved away from him like she had been scalded. "Nothing, I did nothing," she whispered. She turned her back on him and started to clean the sink up.  
  
Jack just stood there, listening to the sounds of the bar. He realised that she had stopped cleaning the sink, and seemed to be just standing there as well, that was until he saw her shoulders tremble ever so slightly.  
  
Jack felt like a complete bastard. "Hey look I'm sorry for being such an idiot. I really do appreciate you helping me, and I shouldn't have been such a git."  
  
"It's ok," she said her voice trembling slightly.  
  
"No it's not," he said softly and moved towards her. He was standing right beside her now, and could see her hands gripping the side of the sink, turning white at the knuckles. He put his uninjured hand on her shoulder, as a gesture of reassurance. Her muscles tensed at the contact. She felt like she was ready to explode. "Janet, I'm sorry." She trembled and he thought that he heard a quiet sob. Very gently Jack applied pressure to her shoulder and got her to turn around.  
  
Janet had tears streaming down her face, and couldn't bring herself to look at him. He put his hand up to her face, noticing her slight flinch again, and wiped away some of her tears with his thumb. "Shit, don't cry. God I'm such a bastard."  
  
"It's not you," she sniffed. "It's my husband."  
  
A sudden realisation dawned on Jack, without thinking he put his arms around her and drew her close to his body. She came here to escape he thought, and ended up being abused by a stranger she was trying to help. Janet had immediately tensed up as he drew her to him. He started to absent-mindedly stroke small circles on her back. Little by little she relaxed and then she began to sob again.  
  
***  
  
I can still remember that moment even now, three and a half years later. I'm surprised just how clearly I can remember the feel of his arms around me, and his hands on my back, soothing my troubles away. Of course, even he could not really solve the problems that I had, but at that instant, he started to help.  
  
***  
  
Gradually her sobs had subsided, but still he held onto her. He couldn't pinpoint exactly when he had started to enjoy the feel of her body against his. Maybe it was when he noticed how exquisitely she smelled; maybe it was just the way she fitted to his body or it may have just been the way that he felt something aside from grief. He had, despite his own self- pity, immediately begun to care for the woman he held in his arms and felt the need to protect her. Not knowing what else to do, he continued to move his hands in small circles on her back.  
  
She was lost in him. The scent of him surrounded her, through the smell of cigarettes and whiskey she could detect him. A comforting smell which held her. His strong arms around her, and the movement of his hands upon her back were pushing her over the edge of some unspecified barrier. Unexpectedly she found herself no longer enjoying the embrace. She wanted more than this stranger's sympathy, she wanted him. She wanted to feel his body against hers, out of the confines of simple clothes. She ached in a way she thought she had forgotten. It was too much to have this tiny part of him when she wanted more. Unwillingly a tiny muffled moan escaped her.  
  
The soothing hands froze and she hardly dared to breath. Then came that voice, "You ok?" The spell was broken and reality invaded.  
  
She worked her arms free from where they had been crushed against his body, and pushed her self out of his hold. She sniffed in the most un-erotic way imaginable. "Yeah sorry about that."  
  
"Hey, don't apologise it's ok. Err...do you want to talk about it." He saw the effect his words had on her. His heart, still racing immediately began to slow. Her face became almost devoid of emotion, and her hazel eyes still wet with tears became cold. When she spoke her voice was crystal-clear.  
  
"No."  
  
***  
  
The barman walked in at that point. Jack took him to one side and after a brief conversation had come over and told me how I shouldn't go home, not yet and how there was a motel just across the road where I could stay. I could have said no, but he was right I didn't want to go home.  
  
It had been cold outside. With my arms wrapped around myself, protecting from an almost forgotten cold, I fall back into my memory.  
  
***  
  
She stood in the doorway of her room and said, "You really didn't have to do this." He had secured her a room, and even (she suspected) had already settled the bill with the motel owner.  
  
"Just think of it as a thank you for treating my hand. Is there anything else I can do for you? I mean after tonight are you going to be ok?"  
  
"I'll be fine. You can't really do anymore than this for me anyway." A slight smile alighted her features, "I am grateful."  
  
"But.... but what about him?"  
  
She put a hand on his arm, "Jack I have to sort this out for myself."  
  
He appeared to think for a moment, and then shaking off her arm he rummaged around in his pockets until he came up with a pen and paper. Swiftly he scribbled something down and handed it to her. "If you ever need anything, or think of something I can do, just call this number." He held it out to her, willing her to take it. She did, but in doing so moved slightly closer to him.  
  
"Thank you". They stood close together. Breathing in each other's air. Both knowing what they wanted, but neither knowing how to act. Nothing could have distracted them at that moment, only the actions of the other. Their bodies acted for them. As if they were drawn to each other their faces became closer and closer, so in the end all he had to do was tilt his head slightly and their lips met. It was tentative and slow, as first kisses tend to be, but the spark that was ignited burned brightly. Each revelled in the feel of the others lips against theirs, and doubt flew from their minds. Mouths opened and tongues danced. Soon however that was insufficient for what they both wanted. He backed her against the doorframe and changed the tone of the kiss; it became more fierce, more needful. Pushing her further into the room, he kicked the door shut. Eager hands fought with suddenly suffocating clothes, and their bodies were in constant motion. The desperate need, which filled both of them, dictated all their actions. Suddenly both pairs of questing hands found something wrong, something that did not belong.  
  
Both of them looked at the cool metal that they held in their hands. They did not speak, simultaneously the metal bonds were removed and discarded on the floor. The sound of metal hitting metal broke through his lust and pulled at Jack. He broke off from kissing her and held her away from him at arms length. His breaths came in short rasping pants, "Janet...can't...not right.... you.... we.upset.don't want to hurt."  
  
She took in the picture of him at that moment. Their fevered activity had left him with a sheen that covered all the parts of his body that she could see. The more she looked at him, the more irrational she felt. Although his face conveyed confusion and worry, his obvious arousal only spoke of certainty. Brushing his hands off her, she moved back to him and placed her hands on his shoulders. "I know we're both upset, why else would we be here. You must understand though, I am asking nothing of you, and you aren't asking me. We are just two people with a mutual attraction." As she spoke, she dragged her nails down his chest teasing every inch of skin they passed over. "I don't know where this is going, or even if it's going anywhere at all." Her hands were splayed over his taut stomach now, which was twitching beneath her palms. "But I do know, that we both want this." She caught his mouth with hers in a wanton kiss, where she sucked his tongue into her mouth and mimicked what they wanted. She stopped the kiss, and looking up into his dark eyes whispered a throaty "Use me."  
  
With a low growl, he lunged at her and began an assault on her neck. Laughing a little, she pulled him towards the bed.  
  
***  
  
That growl! Of course, that was what distracted me so much earlier. The animal growled at me that way through the grill. It knows me, possibly even remembers me as a past mate.  
  
Suddenly the door to my office is flung open and one of my nurses runs into the room. "Sorry to disturb you Doctor but there's been a fight in one of the cells and we've got two injured being brought from the iso' rooms."  
  
Was it my presence that made him so violent? Did I make it worse?  
  
Standing up, I grab my stethoscope "What have we got?"  
  
"Captain Carter with an apparent stab wound to the lower abdomen, and her cell mate with a possible broken arm, fractured ribs and numerous other injuries."  
  
As I leave my office, I try to forget just how close I came to growling back. 


	7. Returning

Returning  
  
"You're sure?"  
  
He nods, he is sure.  
  
Still she hesitates a little. He just wants her to get on with it. He wants to stop feeling trapped. He wants to clear his body of drugs, and clear his mind of thoughts that could never belong to him.  
  
His eyes track her movements as she inserts the needle into the IV and administers her 'cure'. There is part of him that wonders if you can ever be cured of yourself, because deep down he knows those thoughts are his. He can feel something happening to him, he hopes he feels the right things. Everything is blurry and all he wants to do is sleep. 


	8. A Dream Of Past Reality

A Dream Of Past Reality  
  
I should not be doing this. Normally the night before a mission I am going over every minute detail or preferably sleeping, not driving through a veritable ghost town at 5 o'clock in the morning. As I drive through the rain the image of her face, spectre like, floats in front of my eyes. I could not help myself, I had to see her. I had to let her know that I was not going to be coming back, that she should forget me.  
  
I almost pleaded with General West to let me out of the mountain, I couldn't risk ringing her, not from there. I spun him some story about wanting to see Sara before I left. Sara, once that name would have provoked deep feelings of love within me, now it just reminds me why I decided to take this mission on. General West didn't know that of course, and had released me.  
  
The instant that I was out of the vicinity of the mountain I had pulled over and called her. She sounded surprised to hear from me, and sounded a little different. However, being the selfish bastard that I am did not question her about it. I ignored all her protests, and questions as to where the hell I had been. I just kept saying, "I need to see you. I need to speak to you face to face. Please come". Halfway through the conversation her mindset seemed to change, and she agreed to meet.  
  
We had arranged to meet at the bar where this all began. It still makes me smile a little, our first meeting. I had behaved like such an idiot that night, but through some weird miracle, we had created some form of relationship. Since the first time, we had got ridiculously tangled up in each other, meeting again and again. Are we in love? I don't know. I feel something for her, a depth of emotion that has no rival within me. Our relationship seems to be based around trying to absolve the pain we both feel, it can't be healthy. We had both had our moments of doubt and guilt, but had always talked ourselves out of it.  
  
During the time we had been together, her relationship with her husband had spun into total decline. He did not know about us, she was sure about that. She should have left him, but something bound her to him. She never said much about it. I'm sure that initially they had felt something for each other, but now for both of them it was just a marriage of convenience.  
  
She wasn't there when I reached the bar, and I spent a good half an hour pacing outside waiting for her to arrive. Eventually she had appeared, and at that moment, I really began to regret ever hearing of the Stargate. I had only really accepted it because of the very exact military timing, which led to those officers coming to my house on the anniversary of Charlie's death. Anniversary makes it sound like a happy occasion, it's not. I do not know what I would have done with that gun, if the air force hadn't come and offered me a more 'honourable' way out. On that day, at that moment, I had been looking for a way out, and they gave it to me. Now I wish I hadn't taken it.  
  
It didn't register straightaway; the dim outside lighting of the bar hid most of her face in shadows. I had reached out to take her in my arms, so happy that she had come; I had seen her properly then and my greeting had died on my lips. Her face, her beautiful face, was marred by a patchwork of fading bruises, and butterfly stitches. I didn't know what to say to her. I hadn't seen her for two weeks. What had happened to her in the only time in over eight months where she would not have been able to contact me?  
  
"Janet...god.... I'm sorry"  
  
"Where were you?" Her voice sounded very hollow, like she had lost a part of herself.  
  
"That's what I'm here to tell you..."  
  
She let me lead her into the motel, our motel. She did not protest when I led her to our room, or when I locked the door. I sat her down on the bed and said, "Tell me what happened." 


	9. A Conversation

A Conversation  
  
"When I got home after the last time we met, Nick was waiting for me. As I opened the door, I could see him on the other side. I smiled my usual greeting and went past him to fix myself some breakfast. He must have followed me into the kitchen as the next thing I know he had pinned me against one of the cabinets and was trying to kiss me. Out of pure instinct, I resisted but he had pure brute strength on my instinct. He held me against the cabinet with his body, and one of his hands. In his other hand he held a scrap of paper that I recognised instantly. It was yours Jack, the piece you wrote your number on when we first...met. I don't know where he got it from. He was inches away from my face, screaming about how he always knew that I was having an affair, and how much he was going to make me suffer for humiliating him. That's when he started hitting me. There was nothing I could do to escape, he just held me there and hit me around the face. I knew better than to try and scream, it normally makes him worse. I don't know how long he hit me like that, although for some reason I didn't lose consciousness, not at that point anyway. When he stopped, my vision was swimming and all one eye could see was blood. I naively thought it was over then. He relaxed his hold on me and I made as if to move, but his hand flew to my throat. He asked me where I was going, and said that there was no way that he had finished me. He said that I had to learn how to respect a man, and know what a woman's true position in life was. I knew then what he was going to do. I also knew that I was powerless to stop it and that afterwards no one would believe me. That was when I screamed. He started to hit me again, not just on the face this time but everywhere he could get to. I can remember falling to the floor, trying to make myself as small as possible but that's all I can remember."  
  
"Janet. I don't know what to say to you. I don't know how anything that I could say could comfort you in anyway. How did you escape, where is he and what else did he do?"  
  
"That's what I have to tell you, why I'm partly glad to see you again. The next thing I remember is seeing a paramedic leaning over me. Apparently, my scream had been heard by an insurance sales-man who was canvassing the neighbourhood that morning. He had been concerned enough to ring the doorbell. When no one came to the door, he looked in through the window and saw me on the floor with Nick standing over me. He called the police but decided that I needed help at that moment, not when the police arrived. He got in and managed to distract Nick until the police got there. I know what you are going to ask and I have been through a plethora of tests, but considering the fact that both of us were still fully clothed, it seems as though he did not have time to do anything else to me. My injuries are not even that severe considering, they are mainly just bruises and a few cuts to my face. I did think of calling you, but I remembered you telling me about how it was a year since Charlie...died. I didn't want to disturb you, or add an extra burden. I thought I could look after myself. I have helped patients who have been through much worse than what happened to me. It was so hard though Jack. I have been trying to call you for the last week though, where have you been? I needed you."  
  
"Janet, it wouldn't have been a burden to me. If I had known that this was going on, I would never have even considered..."  
  
"Considered what? Jack why did you want to see me so badly tonight?"  
  
"I'm leaving."  
  
"What do you mean your leaving?"  
  
"The air force has given me one last mission."  
  
"You said you were retired."  
  
"I am, but I have to take this one. You have to understand, this will be my final mission. If I had known what was going to happen, I don't think that I would have taken it. I'm sorry."  
  
"Your going on a suicide mission aren't you?"  
  
"Not exactly...I can't tell you any more."  
  
"Why did you take it?"  
  
"They caught me at a very bad time, I thought I was ready to die. Everything is in motion now, I can't pull out."  
  
"How did we end up in such a mess?"  
  
"I wish I knew. I can't believe I'm leaving you."  
  
"Don't feel too guilty, cause I am leaving as well."  
  
"What?"  
  
"When my CO found out about Nick and I, he decided to have me re-assigned. I would like to think it's because he doesn't want me to have to work around Nick, but I think it's because I have broken some 'boys club' honour thing, he just doesn't want me there. I think his decision is a good thing though; I'm going to build up a more specialist knowledge in infectious diseases. The thought of leaving you had been tearing me apart, but if you're off on a suicide mission...well. Please don't think I'm angry, I'm not. What we had...well I don't think I can define it, was unforgettable. Most of the time, we have been there for each other, and have been able to lose our pain for brief moments".  
  
"I wish it didn't have to end this way. I wish I hadn't accepted this mission. Maybe this is the best way though? With both of us being connected to the air force, we could have been parted at any moment. I cannot have been doing you any favours either, you need to be able to make the most of the life you have before you. Without having a reminder of the darker side of your past. At least this way we get to say goodbye properly."  
  
"With no regrets?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Jack, are you going to die?"  
  
"I don't know" 


	10. A Dream Of Past Reality Part 2

I kissed her then. She kissed me back. We melted together, and moved as one. Both of us knew it was goodbye, that it would be the last time. Tonight every touch, every move, and every sigh was sacred. I forgot about my suicide mission, and I hope she forgot what her life had become.  
  
I think I said I loved her, and I think she said it back. For tonight we could be lovers, it didn't matter to either of us if it was a lie.  
  
I had woken sometime later with her curled possessively round my body, and I did not want to leave. I knew however that I had to see Sara, and get back to the base. She woke while I was trying to untangle myself from her, but she didn't speak until I was almost out of the room.  
  
She had gotten out of bed and was standing by me next to the door, and one of her hands had found its way onto my chest. "Stay", she said. I would have done anything to comply with that simplest of orders but there was nothing to do. I can still feel her cheek under my hand as I brushed her spilt tears away, and the feel of her lips as I kissed her good bye.  
  
I have reached what, if I had been a happily married man, should have been my first destination when I left the mountain. The O'Neill House of Horrors. Sara wanted to move after Charlie, but I could not even think of leaving the place that had sprung so many happy memories, and that last terrible one. How could I leave his room, which still looked like he could return at any moment? Or leave the garden, where his playhouse still stood? I know she hates it here, but I still can't let go enough to leave.  
  
I don't really know what I'm doing here. I could have gone back to the base and got some sleep, I could have spent another hour with Janet. Maybe I thought I should say a 'proper' goodbye to Sara, not that she would even be awake now.  
  
As I get out of car, I notice a silhouette standing in the porch and as I move closer, I can see that it's Sara. What is she doing? "Sara, are you ok?"  
  
"Where have you been?" There is a tone in her voice that chills me. She seems very cold and detached from her surroundings.  
  
"I've been at the base, preparing for a mission. I just thought that I would come and say goodbye before I left." I had worked my way under the porch now, to get out of the rain.  
  
"You left the base over six hours ago. A General West rang to remind you that you had to be back at the base by 7:00 this morning."  
  
"I went back, I forgot something. Look are you ok? Let's go inside." What has gotten into her?  
  
"You're never coming back in here Jack." She is really scaring me now.  
  
"What are you on about?" She is leaning closer to me now, so close that I can pick out the detail of each hair.  
  
"I can smell her on you Jack. Your lips are swollen from someone else's kisses. Why have you even come here? This obviously is not where your heart lives anymore." She knows. I should be feeling a little guilty, remorseful but all I feel is relief.  
  
"I'm sorry Sara..."  
  
"So am I Jack. I've been waiting so long for you to tell me, but I couldn't wait any longer". Here she laughs a little under her breath, "The funny thing is I'm not angry, I've got past that. I have every right to be, but I'm not. It's not like I've suddenly lost you, that happened over a year ago. I don't hate you either, I pity you. We have lost so many things that were precious to us. Our child, our friendship, our marriage even our love is all but gone."  
  
"Sara, please don't pity me. You owe me nothing, and I am sorry for the person I have turned into. I came here tonight to tell you this. The mission that I'm leaving on tomorrow, it's my last one. I don't think I'm coming back."  
  
I look into her eyes and they are dead to me. She shows no outwards signs of shock at my news, or any indication that she wants to speak, so I continue. "I didn't want to just leave you, or speak to you over the phone. We used to be so happy together, but now the only thing we share is misery. I just wanted to say goodbye."  
  
I don't know what I was expecting, I suppose I don't really deserve anything. Sara looked at me for a second, then turned and walked through the door.  
  
I stand on the porch for a while, looking out at the rain. This was supposed to be the place where Sara and I would grow old together, surrounded by our children. Now it is just a tombstone, to a love that died with the firing of a gun. 


	11. Not An Ending

Not an ending. Not a beginning.  
  
Although they had all been given their shots before returning to P3X 797, the SG teams still had to go through their post-mission medical exam. They were all currently in the infirmary, all but one being seen to by a nurse.  
  
Jack sat on a bed, thumping his heels against the side, wondering why he wasn't being poked and prodded by a nurse. Not that he was really complaining he just wanted to get it over with and go home.  
  
One by one the teams were released. Carter was the last to go, and she approached his bed warily. Jack winced; things were definitely going to be a little uncomfortable between them. They hadn't completely slotted into an entirely comfortable working relationship, there always seemed to be an undercurrent of 'something' between them. The incident on P3X 595 and the events in the locker room had not helped. He only hoped that Daniel didn't tell her how they had found out Jack had been infected.  
  
"Sir?" he could hear the slight trepidation in her voice.  
  
"Look Carter, before you even start, there are going to be lots of embarrassed airmen around this base for the next couple of days. Hammond can't have everyone up on charges for their behaviour whilst being infected, especially as he would have to charge himself." He shrugged. "Don't worry about it."  
  
She smiled but then her eyes flicked to the raw scratch marks on his neck. "Sir, I really am sorry," and with that she left the infirmary.  
  
Jack looked around; the place was practically empty, aside from a few people still getting over certain side effects of the disease. Believing that he really had been forgotten, Jack eased himself off the bed and walked towards the exit. Suddenly a petite figure appeared in the doorway. "And just where do you think you're going Colonel?" A familiar voice said.  
  
"Just stretching my legs," said Jack as he slunk towards the bed.  
  
"That's alright then. Wouldn't want you leaving before your exam."  
  
He smiled, and lay down as Janet pulled the curtains around them.  
  
After an uncomfortable examination, uncomfortable because after her initial banter Janet had gone very quiet, and due to the fact that every time she touched his body he couldn't help but shiver, Jack was ready to leave. He sat up, turned, and swivelled off the bed. He walked towards the curtains, but a hand on his arm stopped him. Looking around he was met by a pair of magical deep brown eyes, and took a sharp breath in. There was still a faint tingle of electricity between them, a small sparkle...  
  
"Jack." Part of him rejoiced to here his name spoken with that inflection, by that voice again. "Do you remember, when you were infected, when you were in that cell?"  
  
Of course he could remember. The fraction of his real self that had remained had recognised her as someone important, someone who could help. His primitive side had wanted to denote her 'Alpha', but he knew her only as Janet.  
  
He could only remember snatches of his time in the cell, the only vivid memory was when he had asked her to experiment on him, the feel of her cheek underneath his hand, and the concerned look in her eyes.  
  
"I can remember parts of it." The hand shifted slightly on his arm, he could tell that she was unsure. He brought a hand up to her cheek and followed the line of her cheekbone with his thumb. Her eyes broke away from his gaze, and looked downwards. "I remember this," his voice almost faltered.  
  
He studied her reaction. A small frown flickered on her face and as she tilted her head slightly she drew the side her bottom lip into her mouth, worrying it with her teeth. Then she took a step closer to him and brought her own hand up to stroke the side of his face. He could remember this tableau, and all the movements that went with it. This time however the words were different.  
  
"You..." she faltered, took a breath, and started again. " You asked me..." again she faltered, and Jack couldn't believe it when he saw a sparkling rim of water in her eyes. Her voice took a strangely accusing tone, "You asked me to use you." Her eyes narrowed slightly, "You used my own words against me, and reminded me who you used to be."  
  
"Janet, I'm sorry..."  
  
She moved closer to him, looking at him through lowered lids. Ever so softly she said, "Don't ever say them again." With her mouth slightly open she brought her lips to his, and caressed them lightly. Increasing the pressure she gave him a sequence of ever lengthening kisses, before their lips met properly and she drew him into a dizzying embrace. He opened his mouth, welcoming her tongue, learning her taste all over again. His hand moved from her face, roved up her back and tangled itself in her hair. For a moment they both played make-believe, pretending that this was how it could be, that they had never stopped.  
  
Eventually they broke apart and stood wrapped in each other's arms, unable to speak. Their breathing was heavy, their bodies reacting to the emotion that they were feeling. Janet buried her head into Jack's neck and inhaled his scent, not too good after running around on that planet, but still undeniably him. "Janet," he said his voice muffled by her hair.  
  
"Mmhmm."  
  
"I know that the situation has changed, but in some ways it hasn't, we can't do this."  
  
"I know," she moved away from his neck, but didn't loosen her grip on him. "As soon as I saw you here, I knew that all we could be to each other was friends."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"Don't be. Don't be sorry for our past or regret what our future will be. I will be glad to have you as a friend, instead of a memory. Remember we're lucky that we have even met again."  
  
His grip on her tightened just a little. "I'm so glad to have you back Janet." He released her slightly, and she shifted to look up at him. He bent down and placed a chaste kiss on her forehead, whispering, "I can still love you though, can't I?"  
  
She gave him a stunning smile, just like he remembered. "As long as I get to love you back, but just remember I'm going to be the one sticking the needles in you from now on."  
  
An expression of mock fear fixed on his face. She stood on her toes and looked him straight in the eyes and breathed, "Now get out of my infirmary, Colonel."  
  
He winced a little at the sound of his title, but knew that was the way it had to be, at least for a while. Releasing her from his embrace, he pulled the curtain aside, but before leaving he said a barely audible "Goodbye, Captain." 


End file.
